


Timed Quests: Ignoct Week

by Arianne



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Aranea is a friend, Fade to Black, Fluff, Game Spoilers, Gen, Hopeful Ending, JUST, M/M, Massage, SO MUCH FLUFF, Stream of Consciousness, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Tension, World of Ruin, chapter 5 earns all of those, in fic as well as in summary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-09 04:25:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11661585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arianne/pseuds/Arianne
Summary: Day 5: darkness.A power outage strikes Galdin Quay during their initial visit, and Noct's amateur massage from Ignis goes much better than his brief professional one. Intimate and some UST, but no adult content.





	1. Day 1: “Is that a dagger in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

**Author's Note:**

> Rather than spam AO3 with my individual timed quests, they go here, as they're shorter by nature. :3 Now complete, as I broke my streak at day 6! But I had a good time with these 5, so here they remain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Joining the camp for a night, Aranea uses the classic line to mess with Ignis, and Noct reaps the benefits. Fluff with a few feelings, PG-13.

"Noct," Ignis whispered, "are you asleep?"

"Mnh." Which meant no, but Noct's face was too far gone becoming one with his pillow to make anything that sounded like an actual word.

"I thought not." Leave it to Ignis to translate that, and accurately.

Noct stretched, and sighed more than he had to given he was -- what did old people say, and Gladio when he read too much? "Just resting his eyes". He sat up, his sleeping bag crumpling around his waist.

One good look at Iggy and Noct blurted, "You look like you stepped in ooze juice."

"Always a pleasure to see you too."

Noct shook his head, but there was a smile under it. "What's up?"

"Aranea's got a lively sense of humor."

"I bet." After a few close calls today, Noct surprised even himself and invited her to stay at the haven with them for the night, and have one of Iggy's home cooked meals. It only seemed fair. Noct didn't exactly expect a woman with an airship to take them up on camping, but it turned out Aranea was pretty fun to have around. Over dinner she regaled them with an actually pretty funny tale of a few of her soldiers let loose in Altissia, and after, Noct had seen her miming an airship battle to a rapt Prompto.

He may have missed the rest of the night, except for a few laughs he could hear from the tent, but he'd been around for some of the banter she and Gladio could get up to. One-liners in the middle of battle were one thing, but relaxing after a long day by a fire? Right before Noct had turned in, as Ignis watched with his legs crossed and a smirk on his face, Prompto sat between them looking like he was watching a tennis match.

"So? What's the joke?"

As if he were reading off a shopping list, and not even one for a gourmet store in Lestallum or something he’d actually get excited for, Ignis said, "'Is that a dagger in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?'"

Noct tried to keep a straight face, and it lasted for about half a second before it cracked and he chuckled. Not too loud, he didn't think. Just enough.

"The worst line in the book," Ignis insisted.

"Right. She should be more original when she's messing with you." Hiding sarcasm wasn't one of Noct's strength's, and this was so ridiculous, who cared?

"She should!"

"Sure." If nothing else, in a situation like this, he trusted Aranea -- and when did that phrase enter his vocabulary, anyway? "Then what?"

"Then I explained I was tired and came in here."

"Aw, you didn't even try," Noct teased. Ignis must've been surprised by it, if that razor wit hadn't cut back like he had even in the Vesperpool.

No wonder Noct could hear them outside, but it sounded like they were at least trying to keep it down.

"So?" Noct pressed.

"So?"

"Was it your dagger --" Noct couldn't finish, stifling a laugh that turned into a yawn. It really was a ridiculous line.

"Go to sleep, Noct," Ignis chided, but smiling.

"Make me?" was all Noct had to say.

In reality, Noct knew, Ignis's spare dagger was sheathed in a holster on his calf. Noct had watched him put it on after washing, the only time he ever took it off. Literally. The blade wasn't dangerous in there, and Ignis was careful, but it'd weirded Noct out a little, in the beginning, when he'd feel it as his bare legs tangled with Iggy's. But then, everything had felt weird and new those times. Now it was just another part of Ignis.

And taking it off was one of the few things Ignis wouldn't do for Noct if he asked, so Noct quickly stopped asking. He insisted on keeping a blade on himself at all times, and revealed he had as long as he began weapons training years ago. It was a safety measure, he said, no matter how close the Shield might be, that Ignis himself never be unarmed around his prince. Or king.

He'd never be unarmed around Noct, okay.

As Noct settled back down into his sleeping bag, Ignis pressed the long line of his body to Noct's back. It was a nice way to drift off. Iggy was never too warm, but he was strong. Safe. When he threw his leg over Noct's, enveloping him, he could feel the line of the dagger and the tight straps keeping it safely stored there.

Eventually, Iggy would probably get up, go back to the party outside, and give as good as he got. But not till he had seen Noct off to sleep, which could be instant, or could be hours. Noct couldn't always predict it. He burrowed back into his pillow. Ignis's breath was slow on his neck, then he felt a quick press of his lips. Noct decided he'd try his best to stay up just a little longer.


	2. Day 2: Noctis eats his vegetables

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Day 2: Noctis eats his vegetables._  
>  In which Ignis buys Noctis what he insists is a treat: Noct's vegetable nightmare in a blender known as the green smoothie. Pure fluff!

"That," Noct said, eyeing the cup Ignis carried in his hand when he returned to the nice, quiet-for-Lestallum bench Noct had staked out, "cannot taste good."

"Shame. It's for you." Through the thick straw, Ignis dipped his head and took a sip from the heaping cup of of what appeared to be the green film you'd skim off a swamp. "Delicious," he proclaimed, with a satisfied look as he parsed the flavors.

"That doesn't prove anything," Noct insisted. "You make that same face whether we're eating burgers and fries or root vegetable stew." The stew was an easy target. It was no tofu horror show, but even Prompto didn't compliment it quite as much as the other dishes Ignis served at camp.

"I make a good vegetable medley stew."

He actually did, as vegetables went. Noct hung his head a little and played with his hair. "Yeah. Sorry."

"I forgive you," Ignis said, then adding, "if you try this."

Okay, so Ignis _really_ wanted him to taste this swamp... slushy... thing. Noctis decided then that he would, at least one taste, but he still didn't have to be excited about it. "What even is it?"

Finally Iggy hesitated. "I'd rather you try it first."

Was that ever a good sign? "Now I really want to know."

"A base of mixed greens and cucumber, blended with banana and apple, and garnished with mint," Ignis listed, probably exactly what the menu he'd ordered it from had read.

"None of those things sound like they would be good together," Noct protested, but took the cup when Ignis held it out to him. His glove was wet from the condensation dripping down the sides. If nothing else, this drink was icy cold. Noon in Lestallum was a good excuse for eating anything cold.

Having won today's veggie-based battle of wills, and knowing it, Ignis explained, "I saw it advertised as the specialty of the produce stand just there, and thought of you." Man, Iggy didn't play fair. If Noct hadn't already made up his mind, that would've done it.

Staring up at Ignis as if to say _I'm trusting you_ , Noct brought the straw to his mouth and sipped once, without really trying, and the second time, actually hard enough to taste some of the... was that sugar? From the fruit?

Ignis just watched as he screwed up his face, but not from the bitter taste Noct had expected. "This has vegetables?" he asked, looking back at the dark green concoction and the little brighter bits -- mint? -- as if it contained mysteries untold. "More than one vegetable?" He sounded skeptical. This drink inspired skepticism.

"Several varieties. Quite rich in nutrients."

"It's sweet," Noct argued.

"As I said," Ignis said, and he wasn't hiding his 'I told you so' smile at all, "I saw it and thought of you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The green smoothie recipe is real](https://dolesunshine.com/products/crafted-smoothies/refreshing-greens), and I have a bag of the mix in my freezer as I speak. It really is sweet and tasty!


	3. Day 3: 絆 (Kizuna : Bonds)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Day 3: 絆 (Kizuna : Bonds)_  
>  In the World of Ruin, with neither purpose nor rest, Ignis hears the one voice he shouldn't. Unsettling, but no specific warnings beyond spoilers through chapter 14.

It seemed the world should be quieter than it had ever been.

The visual landscape, the others said, grew more dire by the day, and the days themselves grew unbearably tedious -- if, in fact, they were days, and not simply hours that refused to end, or weeks which passed without his notice.

After Altissia, Ignis had no longer risen with the sun. A strict commitment to his phone's alarm was the mechanism by which he kept from losing the others entirely to the cycles of dawn and dusk, and then even as they lost themselves in those last days of growing darkness, his schedule anchored them together in something Ignis himself could still control.

Several endless waking days after the Crystal, Ignis disabled the alarms entirely. One to inform him of dusk, another of full dark, a third at his chosen waking time. None seemed necessary, after Noctis.

When he did sleep, they told him, the last among their party of three to succumb to the body's need for rest, it was for a full day and night. After leaving them, without the rising and falling temperature, the warmth of the sun, or the predictable activity of daemons, he no longer knew.

Artificial means could easily tell him when to sleep, rise, eat, and continue the motions of daily life, if only he cared to use them. But there was a certain lure to sleep, where he heard -- saw -- only Noct.

That scream, the last of his voice ever heard, could last hours. His nightmares swirled vivid around the sense-memory, what he had known of the Crystal melting into the shapes and colors which were more easily held now but harder to distinguish, and only Noct within it as clearly as he could remember anything, distorted nonetheless by the Crystal's facets, reflecting his young face in broken fragments. Too young, entirely too young to have to sacrifice himself as he one day must, and worse, to be without Ignis at his side as that day had come and gone.

Ignis hadn't expected he'd be able to die alongside his King; rarely was a Shield so lucky, and rarer still his own post. But to take his side as the stress of the Wall overcame him, to take his hand and tell him how well he had done, how safe Lucis remained under his careful watch, to ease his suffering in his last moments -- even as they took him to fill with everlasting myrrh, Ignis had expected, in his grief, to see his own life's work finished.

In such a world, he would have been able to busy himself for the remainder of his days, however short or long they may be given to him. He had pictured it at times, as if to inure himself to the inevitability, when he would see Noct fast asleep, passive and fragile, and a sharp pain had crossed his heart each time Noct described himself as "sleeping like the dead".

With his own sleep so disturbed, he thought it no more than hallucination when he heard, unmistakeable, Noct's voice, though he couldn't make out the words themselves.

As if trapped by glass -- exactly as if it were so, the sound was thin, ringing, his King's voice he'd recognize through fire, through pain, through the Crystal and time itself.

Another moment's time, and it was lost entirely. He told himself he needed to make more of an effort to sleep; meet with the others, perhaps, and try to readjust to their habits. It had been -- months, his best and only guess.

Yet in the weeks intervening, the phenomenon never repeated, until he was sitting across a table from Gladio and Prompto, in the quiet remains what used to be an outpost's diner, at what apparently constituted the late afternoon.

He stilled, and focused, cutting off Prompto's sentence with a sharp raise of his hand.

If anything, the sound became closer, but he could no more make out words or meanings than he had the first, only the voice and barely, its tone, the somehow determined despair that this world seemed to inspire in most.

"What?" Gladio asked, after Ignis had dropped his shoulders as much as he were able, anymore.

"I haven't slept well," he said simply. There was nothing more to explain.

"You're hearing things?" Prompto, this time.

"It seems so."

"We should get you to bed," and Ignis nodded, as the mature young man Prompto had so quickly become took his arm, and led to the camp the two had invited him to stay at, as long as he liked.

He heard the screams still, but less often. Increasingly his King called out for him, as years passed, or so he was told.

***

"What did you say?" Ignis asked into their embrace, when the others had left them, and the stunned, near euphoria of Noct's return had faded, left him desperate for more.

"What?" The clarity of Noct's voice, so close to his ear, could've brought Ignis to tears.

With effort, Ignis repeated himself, then tried, "I heard your voice, from the Crystal," _and your screams, and the fear I couldn't bear for you,_ "but I could never understand what it was you were saying."

"I wasn't awake in there."

"I was. When I heard you." Over ten years, he'd had plenty of time to test himself and his senses, to differentiate from his nightmares the real voice of his King, just beyond his reach. "Over and over, the same thing. Calling to me, I'm fairly sure. You have no memory?" Noct shook his head, laid as it was upon Ignis's shoulder.

Bless that this man, one of the few he had left to care about, here in his arms, hadn't endured what Ignis had, what Ignis _would_ , a thousand years more in darkness and near silence if Noctis would be spared all.

His emotion probably plain, Noct tried to pull back into himself -- some things, it seemed, could not be changed -- but in this Ignis was still stronger, and refused to let him step away.

"I don't know." Noct said, then, tensed under Ignis's hands and engaged his voice, noticeably lighter. "But I wouldn't shut up, huh?"

When the lump was gone from his throat, and Ignis was confident he could speak again, he would assure Noct that he never had, not once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These continue to be great fun, and I look forward to them every day. This one could also qualify for day 3's "sleep," as it became more of a theme than I intended, but as I set out to write it about bonds, I kept that. I may still write something separate for "sleep" in the future, as I owe Ignis happier times with Noct in his bed after this torment.


	4. Day 4: A throne fit for two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Day 4: a throne fit for two._  
>  In the age of the World of Ruin, master of illusion and reigning King Ardyn Izunia née Lucis Caelum doesn't let the image of the late Prince Noctis stray far from Ignis's mind.
> 
> Game spoilers, no warnings, gen this chapter, Ardyn being his usual level of Not Nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a harder day, I fell back on Ardyn to torment Ignis some more, and what better to use than Noct, his greatest vulnerability? I barely got started today, and didn't write my favorite work here, so I hope to write him again before too long, because we hurt the ones we love.

As Ignis dreamed, in his mind's eye, Noctis occupied the throne. Ardyn made certain of that. A specific image, always the same, so detailed it might be memory. The prince -- not the King, after all, still not yet -- disaffected, even pouting as he so loved to do, making a mockery of the title his dear advisor held most precious with his legs crossed and his eyes as bored as any, that is, if they were even open and awake.

Then a simple matter of projecting the illusion, a flash here, a second there, over months and months, until he expected Ignis to have memorized each and every detail, ones he himself had devised as he dreamed of this very room. The blue glow reflected from the marble and the deep black of the prince's garments, as the throne itself stood alone in the vast room. A dreamscape, yes, but hardly one the sharp Ignis Scientia should struggle to accept, or one he couldn't continue to build inside his dreams of Noctis that Ardyn didn't touch.

He had the capability for sight, after all, just no longer all the... required equipment.

And what fun Ardyn could have, once time had passed enough for a man's mind to accept a placed image, assimilate it, and, in this poor case, lament that he never would be able to see his King Noctis Lucis Caelum CXIV with his own eye.

Though nor would he be able to see Ardyn take that which was his, were Ardyn not very, very good.

The details changed first were subtle, each in turn in no planned pattern, but instead on Ardyn's whims. A red hue to the eyes, broader shoulders, a throne lacking this or that adornment that Ardyn knew to be an addition of his descendants. He would reveal the illusion in time, but why rush it? Why indeed, when each suggestion threatened to break the spell, to spoil the only such image of the sweet Prince the man would ever have, until time that his closest companion could no longer discern whether it was the Chosen King he saw, or if he had, against his will, accepted the true ruler of their world? It would take years, but what better had Ardyn to do now?

In time, he would realize, as they all would. Noctis would return, but it was hardly a throne fit for two. How interesting it will be for Ardyn to decide, then, who gets to keep it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The projected image I had in mind was [this concept art](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/ca/36/3a/ca363a4e4e72ec5dc9a7b9995d1da3a9.jpg), which incidentally, I can't stop looking at. Is this what it feels like to be Ignis?


	5. Day 5: Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Day 5: darkness._  
>  A power outage strikes Galdin Quay during their visit, and Noct's amateur massage from Ignis goes much better than his brief professional one. Intimate and some UST, but no adult content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As if making up for yesterday, here is Ignis getting to put his hands all over Noct in a massage he never knew he so badly wanted to give.

Gladio lasted for about ten minutes in the darkened room, before taking his book and going to "get some air", most likely to the beach, where the emergency lighting was stronger to ward against daemons, or a fire could easily be built. Prompto, with a low battery on his phone and not much more on his camera, filtered out to find him a few minutes later. Noct had declared his intention to simply sleep till morning, when they'd have light if not necessarily electricity.

Ignis, the lone figure still seated at the hotel room's sofa, considered his options. The restaurant may need help preserving their supplies, or a defensive patrol. He could probably gain some information on the cause of the outage, were Dino around. His own phone remained in his pocket, and while games or reading could be tempting, more important to preserve what battery he had left, as he had yet to hear any word from Lestallum on when power would likely be restored.

He looked at Noct, curled into a round shape underneath a heavy blanket, his hair barely visible as he attempted to cover his ears. No, to leave would be irresponsible. Noct was hardly defenseless, but he was a heavy sleeper, and best not to tempt the darkness.

Perhaps the room was too cold. Ignis closed and locked the glass doors, which had provided such a refreshing breeze earlier in the day. The seaside was susceptible to such temperature drops as the desert was, and while it may be unavoidable in camping, there was no reason to chill from the confines of a hotel room, and a luxury one at that. It was kind of the proprietors to offer such a reasonable nightly rate to travelers when the outage had occurred that evening.

"Thanks," muttered Noct when the next gust sounded against the glass, barely seeping through the frame.

"You're welcome," Ignis replied automatically. "I thought you were sleeping?"

"Wish I was."

"The silence is unnerving," Ignis guessed. It had been a problem at havens as well; while Gladio relished it, and Ignis himself found he could sleep wherever Noct did, the younger two, lifelong city-dwellers, had found it quite unsettling, even once sharing a set of headphones as Noct's phone played a file entitled, "10 HOURS of City Sounds: Streets of Insomnia!!"

"The dark, too." In that, Ignis agreed. Insomnia, quite aptly named, lit itself up each night, and unlike many, Noct's apartment had no blackout drapery to mitigate the effect. There was a certain comfort in the yellow glow that poured in at all hours, as the Citadel continued on third shift, a certain safety.

"There's some mending I could do," Ignis suggested, eager to have a task, "if the lamp wouldn't bother you."

"Nah."

Ignis nodded -- quite pointlessly, as Noct didn't have his eyes open, nor his face turned toward Ignis, nor would he be able to make out much in the moonlight even if the other two conditions were met. Locating the torches they used at night and in dark spaces, with only a little more sound than he had intended to make, he easily located his sewing kit and the garments needing minor hemming or patching set intentionally aside in his belongings.

The mends went quickly in silence, as if to make up for the difficulty in threading a needle in near-darkness.

The sound of Noct turning over in bed, then back, restless, made him look up from where he'd been squinting over the detailed work. Retrieving his glasses, he focused on Noct, only a few feet away.

"Are you well?"

"Still can't sleep," Noct whined, and Ignis was familiar with the frustration Noct felt when his favorite activity eluded him.

"Does something trouble your mind?"

"No, I just can't get comfortable."

"Perhaps you needed that massage earlier."

"Couldn't stand that guy touching me." That much had been obvious as an observer. Noct had never vacated a bed so quickly as when the therapist had tried to lay hands on him more than for a few seconds, to proceed with his job.

"I'm no professional," Ignis began, "but if you like..." He had rubbed Noct's back when they were younger, and his chest when Noct was sick with a head cold.

"Okay," Noct agreed, taking Ignis by surprise. "It's my back."

"Give me a moment," Ignis said, "while I put a pin in this." Noct groaned, but it sounded as if it stemmed from amusement.

Put a pin in it he did, carefully leaving his materials and lamp as well as excusing himself to the restroom to wash his hands and select a small bottle of the hotel's proprietary massage oil from amidst the soaps, a sample left for each guest in the hopes they would purchase some at the gift shop during their stay.

"Take off your shirt," Ignis requested when he returned, businesslike, for after all, he had a specific goal: ease Noct into relaxation and sleep, and few means available to him besides touch. A good reason to have offered, and a valid one.

"It's cold." It likely was, as Ignis noted as he rolled up his sleeves, jacket long discarded to a hanger, while Noct threw his shirt to the floor and hid again beneath the bedding.

"I'll draw the drapes." That helped seal out what drafts remained, though dimmed the strong moonlight illuminating the room. No matter. Noticing his own hands would probably be chilled, he rubbed them together on his way back to Noctis, bare shoulders just visible under the blanket, face buried in the pillow. It looked remarkably similar to when he would sleep, and if Ignis had any say in the matter, sleep would not evade him for long.

Laying a hand between Noct's shoulderblades, blanket between them, he asked, "Where do you carry your tension?"

"Never thought about it."

Gladio had certainly taught him to isolate specific muscle groups, but a quiz on training techniques would hardly make for a relaxing start to the process, when Noctis already could have such varied reactions to touch, though not to his memory under Ignis's hand.

"For instance, mine gathers in my shoulders," Ignis offered.

"Maybe there? Just feels like my back is tied up in knots."

"I'll simply start at your neck and you tell me when you feel the release in your muscles."

"I'll try."

"Don't try too hard." It would hardly be relaxing if his mind were also engaged, and Ignis was fairly certain he would be able to tell beneath his hands, if his muscles felt anything like Ignis's own during tension headaches and the like.

He began gently rubbing from above the blanket, still, warming Noct with his hands and beginning to increase blood circulation. A light pressure only, as Noct felt entirely too slight beneath him. The stress of their journey can not have been healthy for him, Ignis worried. He must eat more, and Ignis was certain he could devise recipes that were both rich in calories and nutrients, as their restaurant meal had been this day.

Another time. "May I touch you?" he asked.

"You already are."

"On your skin. Are you warm enough?"

"Yeah, think so."

Ignis pulled back the blanket, folding it around Noct's hips, and was pleased to see only the slightest moment of gooseflesh as his skin adjusted to the air. Another moment and he had coated his hands in the oil, rubbing it to warmth between his palms.

"What's that?" Noct said, nearly lifting his head.

"The hotel's massage oil. It seems they put it in every room."

"That's the smell from earlier."

It was rather strong and medicinal, a few herbs Ignis recognized for their relaxing properties. "Do you not like it?"

Noct paused a moment, as if taking in the scene from each sense. "It's okay in here."

The privacy -- and dare he think it, the company -- seemed to make the necessary difference for Noctis, who was tense, but not terribly so as Ignis laid hands upon him. He was quiet, as expected, and that let Ignis focus, dig his thumbs into the base of his neck, work his shoulders in long strokes that reached halfway down his spine. Only the same light pressure, yet, though the muscles themselves were deep.

"How do you feel?"

"That's okay."

Only okay, Ignis noted. Then he hadn't yet discovered where Noct needed the touch. Before moving on, he pressed into the muscles lining each arm, to the elbow, where they all found themselves sore, in their new lifestyle. Wrist and hands as well, during which he noticed Noct relaxing, his arms loose as Ignis placed each one gently back to his sides in turn.

When he resumed, and reached the lumbar spine, Noct made a sound unlike one Ignis had heard before tonight. Removing the pressure but leaving his hands, he asked, "There?"

"Yeah, I think it's there."

"Tell me if anything hurts," Ignis insisted, and began to rub his back with purpose, pressing in with gentle thumbs when something felt particularly tense beneath the skin. A professional would certainly do a better job of this, finding the points of tension and releasing them, but if Noctis preferred what Ignis could provide, then there was no other decision to be made.

The gooseflesh reappeared for a few seconds as Ignis moved to his hips, where the pelvis met the spine, one side noticeably firmer to the touch than the other.

"Forgive me," he said, leaving only seconds for Noct to start to ask _why_ , then Ignis was removing his hands before adding more oil. Placing them back, he said, "I imagine that was cold."

"A little." And the best way to take care of that was to touch him more, one hand gently stabilizing the small of his back, while the other rubbed and pressed and tried to mobilize the stubborn muscle. When Noct breathed a little harder, just once, Ignis immediately stilled.

"Hurts?"

"In a good way? It already feels different." Ignis still hesitated, until Noct said in no uncertain terms, "Keep going."

Perhaps if he pressed his knuckles into the knot causing the most resistance... it seized up, but Noct himself did not. "Yeah," he encouraged in a quiet voice, and Ignis continued to focus only on this duty: to relax this muscle, to relieve Noct's discomfort, to help him sleep.

After a few long moments of such firm pressure, the muscle stopped resisting, and Noct sighed. Sensing the spot would be tender, Ignis resumed the light touch, more of a backrub than a massage, easing out whatever tension had been released.

"Better?"

"So much." Satisfied, Ignis worked through his lower back again with more confidence, finding few other knots but none quite as stubborn, and gradually, Noct's whole body gave in, as if floating. He worked back to the source of the pain, so near the base of his spine, pressing with curious fingers to be sure it hadn't tensed again.

Putting heavy pressure from the heel of his hand on the same spot, rubbing in circles and trying to soothe it of any soreness, Ignis asked, "Is that too much? Noct?"

When no answer arrived, he noticed the steady breath, and, quickly running his hands along the long muscles of his back, felt them all more relaxed, as near total as an amateur was likely to achieve. He made a point in his mental notes not only to read up on technique, but to pick up a bottle of the massage oil from the gift shop the next day, no matter how it may be priced. Bringing Noct to this state was certainly worth a few hunts, or nights spent outside.

"Sleep well," Ignis wished, softly, replacing the blankets back over him, and stood to wash his hands before the temptation to join Noct in bed and ensure his warmth all night got any stronger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have fibromyalgia et al, and have to get regular massages. I think Ignis would give really good ones, especially if Noct keeps letting him practice.


End file.
